


Miscellany

by roseprinted



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alcohol, Dialogue Heavy, Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseprinted/pseuds/roseprinted
Summary: "...with no idea of making them connected with, or dependent on each other."(in which there are drabbles)





	1. Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> The summary quote describing Shakespeare's work comes from Thomas Hull and was found in The London Magazine (1772).

He's stood at the sink as she comes into the kitchen, staring out into the garden.

"Minions are down," she says, coming to lean against him.

"Hmm?" His head turns to her. "What did you say?"

"They're both in bed." She yawns. This was far from the worst bedtime saga they've ever had, but she's definitely not answering any more questions this evening unless they involve wine.

"Good work, captain Duke."

She stretches across the sink to peer out of the window. "What were you looking at? Is the possum back?"

"No, I was just looking. Not very Christmassy, is it?"

It's decidedly grey outside, though the sun hasn't yet dipped down behind  the trees. The rain came in dribs and drabs through the afternoon, much to Bea's frustration, and she has to agree that it's hardly festive.

"I hate rain on Christmas. It's supposed to be sunny! I mean, what?"

"Or snowy," Ben agrees. "It snowed my last Christmas in England."

"Like in a film."

"Sort of. It didn't really stick - you remember what it was like in Edinburgh. Waking up on Christmas morning and seeing snow was still pretty cool, though."

Bea looks up at him. He gets this way every so often, in the depths of winter and the heights of summer. It's like there's some little part of him still running on Greenwich Mean Time.

"You miss it."

"A bit."

She reaches into the sink to flick a bubble back at him. "What if you hadn't moved?"

"Don't be morbid."

"I'm not!" But it worked, it always works. He's smiling again as he reaches a hand to push the hair out of her face.

"Fine. Then life would be infinitely less awesome, snow or no snow. Although, who knows, I might be married to someone who isn't about to make me wrap nine thousand presents."

Bea wrinkles her nose. Guilty as charged. "What if I said you can take the easy ones?"

"Then I'd probably pick you. What's the worst that could happen?"

She rises up to kiss him. It's supposed to be quick, but to her surprise he wraps his arms tightly around her, pulling her in. It's a minute or so before he pulls back, rests his forehead against hers.

"Just to be clear," his pupils are wide, and she can feel the pulse of his heart under her fingers "I pick you. You and me and the minions and Christmas. I pick that."

"You're so cheesy," but she can feel the corners of her mouth turn up as he smiles at her. "I love you."

"I love you too." They stand there for a moment, eyes locked and caught in each others' arms. That's until there's an almighty  _thud_ on the ceiling and wailing from above.

Ben pulls away from her, sighing. "I'll do it. You get the presents out?"

"Deal."


	2. Examination

"Hey, how'd it go?"

Ben drops his bag on the kitchen floor and starts banging his head slowly against the cupboard.

"It was fine," Pedro responds to Hero's question, sinking into the chair next to Meg's. "Glad it's over though. Ben, stop doing that."

"I forgot everything!"

"You did not." Pedro rolls his eyes at Hero.

"I did! I forgot all the dates!"

"It was a _scholarship exam_ , Ben. Worst case scenario is you're just living off spaghetti next year."

Ben raises his head. "True. Thank you."

Meg has been sat there with her fingers in her ears for the past ten minutes, mouthing along with the lines in front of her. She looks up now, irritated.

"Ben, stop being a dick and come over here. I don't understand any of this."

"No. If your stuff goes into my head then something has to go out, and it _will_ be Physics."

"He's right," Beatrice agrees as she enters the kitchen. Ben reaches out for a hug, still ignoring Meg.

"That's not for days, and our English exam is tomorrow! Please, Ben. You'll be my favourite forever."

"That's already true," Ben retorts, but he releases Bea and takes the book anyway. "Hey, this is the storm scene! How do you not know this?"

Meg glares up at him. "I know it. I just skipped some parts."

"But it's the pivotal scene! Look, you'll like this bit, it's sexy." He leans across her to take one of Hero's highlighters as Bea wrinkles her nose at him.

"Marlowe nerd." Ben ignores her.

Hero looks down at her phone. "Balthazar can't come."

"Shock," mutters Pedro, sliding into the next chair to get away from Ben's chatter. "I think he's in hibernation."

"He's just working hard," Hero corrects him, pushing the plate of biscuits across the table. Hero's baking is the best bit about the little study club habit they have going on, unless you count exam results, which Pedro does not. He mumbles his thanks through a mouthful of crumbs.

"You're welcome," Hero says, drawing a neat line under the paragraph she's just finished.

"Okay, well, I think you just made that word up. But yeah, I get it." Meg smiles up at Ben. "You're my favourite."

"That's all I ask for." Ben stretches up and reaches out for Beatrice again. "Please can we just watch Netflix tonight? History killed my brain."

Hero frowns at them. "Rule one of revision club: we _revise_."

He sticks his tongue out in response, and Beatrice hits him on the shoulder. "Hey. Rude."

"Two hours of waves, then you get an episode." She folds her arms, underlining the offer.

"One hour?"

"Two hours." His puppy-dog expression doesn't seem to be helping.

"Ninety minutes and then motivational making out?"

"I don't think you understand how this wo-" starts Beatrice, as Pedro's pencil case sails past Ben's head.

"Can you two get a room already?"

"Uh, we have a room, it's called _this is my house_." Beatrice retorts, kicking his pencil case back across the floor.

Hero holds up her ruler. "Okay. As co-founder of revision club, my decision is this. Ben has to do two hours of physics."

Bea smirks up at him as he groans. "Ha!"

"Did we get a ruling on motivational-" This time, Pedro doesn't miss.


	3. Stag

**_Peter Donaldson_** _sent you a picture_

**_Peter Donaldson_ ** _: yes;, that is bin chasing seabirds_

**_Peter Donaldson_ ** _: r you sure you want to amrry this man?_

**_Beatrice Duke_ ** _: yeah_

**_Beatrice Duke_ ** _: Return him in one piecde!_

**_Balthazar Jones_ ** _: holy shit i think he cught one (,this is petdro_

* * *

There's a pizza box in the middle of the kitchen floor, which Bea toes open with some apprehension. There're enough chillies on top to bring down an army, which either means that Ben was very, very drunk or that Adao was on shift. Judging by the milk spilt across the floor and the angle of the pictures on the wall, she's inclined to believe the former.

The bedroom is still dark behind drawn curtains. She can just make Ben out, splayed across the bed with his face in a pillow.

“Good night?”

He groans. “Look.” One hand flops towards her and she leans forward to inspect it.

“Nice plaster. Very pink.”

“I don’t like seagulls.”

“Doesn’t look like they like you.” She sits down on the bed and runs a hand over his head. He curves in toward her, mumbling as he moves.

“I need affection.” He’s nuzzling her knee like a puppy, and it's surprisingly endearing.

“You need a shower.”

His head tilts to her. “Want to join me?”

“No. I think you might vomit on me.”

“Possibly.” He waves one leg in the air. “I’ll stand up soon.”

“Do you want some tea?” She stretches up, fingers still curled through his hair.

“You’re my favourite.”

****  
  


* * *

**_Beatrice Duke:_ ** _you broke my fiance_

**_Peter Donaldson_ ** _: I’v broken mine too if that helps ?_

**_Peter Donaldson_ ** _: sambucaA is bad_

* * *

Once Ben's showered and finished his first pot of tea, he declares himself still too hungover to be upright and crawls onto the sofa next to her, dropping his head in her lap.

“Snuggling, please.” She obliges, wrapping her arms around him.

“How was your thing yesterday?”

“Civilised, compared to yours. Hero made us play games but Meg put gin in our teapot.”

“Good job. Did you get all my questions right?” She laughs. Caroline from the office hugged her before she left, whispering in her ear _you know, Ben doesn’t come across that weird when you meet him_.

“Almost. What was the one about Rio?”

He opens one eye. “Really? Rio? Lots of sand, horribly horrible sand?”

She swats him on the shoulder and he keens in fake agony. “You wanted me to tell a whole tea party that we failed at sex on the beach?”

“That was the idea.”

“Dick. Meg wanted to play some of the videos back. _That_ was hard to explain to Caro."

Ben laughs, twists his fingers between hers. “Poor Caroline.”

They sit like that for a little while, brushing thumbs. It doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere for the rest of the day, with the sky still grey outside their window and Ben's happy little noise as she kisses the top of his head.

“Shall we see what’s on on demand?”

“Can we watch the videos?” His voice is muffled in her lap, and she wonders if she heard him properly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I feel like I would like us doing that.” 

“You what?” He looks up at her, sleepy eyed.

“I would've liked that, back then. Us on the sofa, getting married, watching the videos. It’s nice.”

Sometimes he annoys her, sometimes he drives her around the bend, but then sometimes he’s so lovely she can’t believe he's actually hers.

“Sure. Sure, we can do that.” She lifts his head from her leg. “I’ll get the password.”

* * *

“You were _mean_.”

“You too!”

“I was never that mean. You were very mean.”

“I was upset. About the thing.”

“Fourteen year old Ben, you fuckwit.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

“Why did you even upload that?”

“Desperation?”

“Clearly. Where did you get the animals? Oh my God, I can’t believe I've never asked that before.”

“They were in my bag!”

“Of course they were.”

“This is why pizza is our special food, you know.”

“There’s still your pizza in the kitchen from last night.”

“If you bring me some, I’ll love you forever.”

* * *

“Can we skip this one?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

“I’m in your video!”

“Yes, love, I remember.”

“Shut up; it’s an important moment.”

“I wanted to kiss you so much right then.”

“What, just then?”

“Angry Beatrice, in my shirt, _on my bed_? Like, fantasies come true.”

“Really?”

“By the way, I feel much better now. And I definitely won’t be sick on you.”

"Well. When you put it that way..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, it seems, is what happens whilst you're planning a hen weekend for someone who met her fiance when we were seventeen (in Brighton, Balthazar's dream destination). It's all very NMTD.


	4. Tea

When Hero was a little girl she didn’t like taking her medicine.

  
Even though Mum had explained over and over again – _it’s not forever, darling, but you do need it now_ – the taste was so bitter that she just couldn’t stand it. It seemed to burn itself into her tongue, lingering even after she brushed her teeth. She cried and protested and even hid; sliding under beds and into cupboards whenever she saw the clock tick to that time. For as long as Hero could remember the medicine had been the very worst thing in her world.

This was an especial disappointment to Hero because she liked the rest of her world very much. She liked feeding Cottontail and making daisy chains and skipping with Rosalind and her Sylvanians. And she liked those mornings when she woke up early enough to hear Mumma tiptoeing downstairs and could catch her before she went to work; just Mumma and Hero in the kitchen as the sun came up.

Her mother made them the same breakfast every time: Weet-Bix and milk for Hero, tea and toast for Mumma. Hero liked Weet-Bix more than toast, but to her great annoyance she was never given tea.

“Leo’s allowed!” she would protest as one of her parents waved her away from their mug. “Leo’s older than you are,” was always their reply, and then they laughed when she gave them her very best scowl.

It was a cold July morning when this scene played out for the hundredth time, but rather than laugh Mumma tilted her head to one side and looked contemplatively at Hero.

“Do you really want to drink tea?”

Hero nodded. She couldn’t tell you why exactly, except that it seemed to make everybody else happy. There was the sigh that Mum made at the first sip, and Leo’s impossible cool as he swung in the door from school and flicked the kettle on with one precisely aimed rubber ball. Hero’s granny once told her that it was the feel alive flavour. She wanted to feel alive.

Mumma clicked her tongue, bringing Hero back to the kitchen. “Okay. Do you know what a compromise is?”

Hero considered the word for a moment, but had to give up.

“It’s what I do at work every day. It means that you give me something you don’t want to, and I give you something I don’t want to in return.”

This didn’t sound like a very nice situation to be in, as far as Hero was concerned. Mumma laughed at that.

“You’re right. But the beauty of it is that I want what you give me, and you want what I give you. You want it more than you don’t want to give the thing to me. Does that make sense?”

Not really, thought Hero, but she enjoyed it when Mumma talked to her like a grown-up and so she nodded again.

“I’m going to offer you a compromise.” Mumma pushed her cup across the table. “You can have tea – only once a day, mind – to take away the taste of your medicine. As long as you take your medicine, and you don’t complain, then you can have some tea.”

It’s a moment that Hero will remember for a very long time. In the six short years that her world has existed, all she’s ever been told is to wait until she’s older. When she gets older (she’s not sure when that is, but maybe about thirteen? because that was Leo’s last birthday and he’s definitely older) then things can happen. She can drink as much tea as she wants and stop having the medicine and go to the shops on her own and take Cottontail to Australia to see all the other rabbits there. So this seemed like a good first step; this seemed like she might be getting a little bit older.

And so she nodded again, tucking the word away for later.


	5. Agreed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know that this chapter touches on topics of infertility, pregnancy and birth trauma. It isn't a tragic read, but if any of those things might distress you then please do skip it.

It all started at Hero's wedding.  
 

"Did you ever think that would happen?" Balthazar asked.

"Hmm?" Peter had been scrolling through his tab for the past few minutes. "What?"

"Them." Balth nodded to the left, and he looked over. Ben and Beatrice were both sat at the high table now, with Oliver propped up in Bea's lap and Katie trying to scale Ben's shoulders. Hero was stood behind them, gurning to make Katie laugh harder, and there were sudden flashes as the photographer captured the scene.

"They're pretty cute," he admitted.

"They're amazing," said Balthazar.

 Peter looked at him. "Do you - I mean, we always said we weren't sure. Do you…"

"Still not sure," Balth answered, reaching down to squeeze his hand. "But maybe… talk about it?"

"Yeah." It's a seismic moment, or seems like it should be a seismic moment, but it wasn't really. Just them, in that room, hands grasped together. Hero leant over Bea's shoulder to kiss Oliver, and he started to cry.

 

* * *

 

Time seems to move faster nowadays. Weeks tumble into months, and it's almost two years before Balthazar drops down beside him on the sofa with a sigh.

"You alright?"

"Jojo." Balth waves his phone at Peter. "They're doing up the garage so I'll have to sleep in with the kids."

"Shit." Peter likes Jo's children, honestly, but he usually needs a strong drink after spending any extended time with them. He'd suggest a hotel, but Balthazar would never go for it. The Jones family are a strange clan.  
  
"Mm. Might be good, though."

"You thinking pillow forts and midnight feasts?" Peter can just imagine it: Balth leading his squadron of nieces and nephews to the kitchen in search of cake.  
  
"More whether we want to." Balth turns to him, eyes bright. "We never did really talk about it."

"I know. Um, I'm not…" He's not, he's just not, even though he's the one that makes decisions and he knows they'd be okay budget-wise and the flat would be fine as long as it's one, but after that they'd need to move and selling is a nightmare right now and then Balthazar kisses him on the cheek.

"Same. When I get back?"  
  
"Agreed."  
**  
**  


* * *

 

 

Peter swirls the remains of his beer around the bottom of the glass. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." Ben's only half-paying attention, still fixated on the screen above the bar.

"How did you know that you wanted to have children?"

Ben lowers his head to stare at him, eyes wide. "Really?"

"Don't get excited," Peter warns him. "It's just a question."

"If you say so. Right, so do you mean how did I know or how did we decide to?"

Peter considers this for a moment.

"Both, I guess."

"Okay. To be honest, we kind of… didn't. Like, it came up every so often but we always put that conversation off. Which is stupid, right, but it's not like either of us had really thought about it before we got together. And I guess I was always a bit worried that if I said I did, and Bea said she didn't, then we had a problem."

Peter just wants to shake Ben by the shoulders, not for the first time. "It's actually amazing that you two ever got this far."

"You're telling me." He's only a little smug. "I mean, there was one time at uni when she thought she might be pregnant and we sort of talked about it then. But only, like, if we did have them then it would be… later."

"And when you had Kate?"

Ben raises an eyebrow to Peter, taking a gulp from his glass. "Next time you see Bea, ask her about 'fucking contraception in this fucking age."

Peter chokes. "Seriously?"

"Yup. She wanted to sue everybody. Worked out alright, though."

"Yeah." Peter remembers that morning, waking up to a string of messages from Ben. _introducing Katherine Duke!! Ps I didn't faint Jacks you owe me money_. Balthazar making fun of him the first time he held her, so convinced he was going to hurt her somehow. After Oliver was born and Katie pulled Peter by his trouser leg over to the cot so that she could explain. _Baby_.

"What about Ollie?"

"He was on purpose. We didn't want Kitkat to be an only child, really, with the way we both turned out."

"And you knew you wanted two?"

Ben frowns, and Peter could kick himself. He'd forgotten again. They were in Australia when it happened, and by the time they got back Bea and Oliver were home and everything seemed so normal.

"We said two. But obviously there was no way we were having more, after Ollie."

 _I thought she was going to die_ , Hero had said to Balthazar one night. _Ben thought she was going to die_.

 

* * *

 

"This is nice."

Peter murmurs his agreement. It's a perfect spring day and the sunlight is streaming in through Hero's patio doors, illuminating the kitchen. The twins are babbling to each other in their playpen and really it's just like a magazine spread. The ideal family.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" She sets his coffee down on the table, adjusts the jug of flowers.

"I'm kind of on a research tour," he explains, pulling his mug towards him. He can trust Hero with the information. "I - me and Balth, I mean - we're thinking about whether we want to have kids."

Hero lights up, as he knew she would, and claps her hands. "Oh, wonderful! You two would be such good parents."

"Well, maybe." He's not so sure about that. "So I've been asking people how they knew they wanted to do it."

She tilts her head to one side. "I see."

"Do you?" Hero has always seemed so perfect for this, so destined for motherhood. He can't imagine her having this doubt.

"If I think about it, I suppose I always did. I always knew I wanted it, at least, and then when I met Anim it just sort of… slotted in. I wanted to have children and I wanted to have them with him, and he felt the same."

 _That_ , thinks Peter, _is distinctly unhelpful_. "And when you decided to have them?"

"Well, obviously we didn't decide to have twins! But we agreed we'd start trying right after we got married, and fortunately it didn't take too long." She laces her fingers together, looking over to the playpen in the corner. "I wasn't expecting two, though."

"Would you have only wanted one?"

Hero contemplates the question. "No. I mean, we would have had more. We still might have more, but Anim says he needs to read more studies on the chances of multiple sets."

"In case you end up with four?"

"In case we end up with ten." She smiles as she sips her tea. "He spent about forty eight hours on the internet after my first scan. I think it stuck in his mind."

Peter can well believe it. Anim is the only person he knows who can list every member of the All Blacks and then all of the chemical elements with equal ease. He and Ben make a terrifying pub quiz partnership.

"Were you worried? After you found out?"

"Sort of." Hero frowns, remembering. "It was a shock, and I was thinking a lot about what happened to Beatrice. Plus there's such a big risk that they'll be premature, twins, and I must say the C-section was a bit grim. But you don't need to know about that, fortunately."

He doesn't, but part of him wants to. Part of him wants to say _how the fuck did you do that_ , though he knows how Hero would respond. _You just do it_ , she would say, this golden woman whom he's known since she was a tiny girl with her hair in plaits, building sandcastles on the beach with a cousin who almost died.

There's a sudden wail from the playpen and Hero smirks at him.

"Now, if you need any practice changing nappies?"

 

* * *

 

Peter's phone vibrates in his pocket. It's Bea, with pictures of a red-faced Oliver sobbing on the kitchen floor.

_Crying bc I won’t let him eat cat food. THIS IS ALL GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU BUDDY!!!_

 

He really must stop telling Ben things. It hasn't even been that helpful, what with Ben being Ben and Hero being Hero and, honestly, he wishes he could confide in Bea but she always shies away from talking about when she had Ollie. He's had to return to home camp.

"So when is Balthazar back from Dunedin?" His mum loves Balth. Peter was a little worried when they went home that first Christmas, because _I think I'm bisexual_ seemed a million miles away from _here is my boyfriend_. But Mum was thrilled and Dad even managed to muster up some questions about music, despite not having bought an album since 2003.

"Saturday. Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Don't go wild or anything, but we're kind of thinking about if we want to have children."

She tenses a little, he can tell, but her face remains perfectly blank. "Okay."

"And so I've been asking people, like Hero and people, how they decided to have them. And it's not been that useful."

Ann laughs at that, and rises from her chair to pick up the kettle. "It wouldn't be, darling. That's not how it works."

"How does it work, then?"

"Well, differently for you two, I'd imagine. I don't really keep up with it all nowadays; implants and surrogacy and all the rest. But you know what happened with you."

Peter does. He didn't for years; understanding only that his parents seemed to be older than everyone else's. And then finding out about John; that first conversation where his dad sat him down and showed him pictures of this little boy on the other side of the world. The shouting, and the silence.  
  
"It was very hard," his mother says, still looking out of the window. "Of course, they can do incredible things with IVF now. Back then it was very hard. By the time I found out about you we'd almost separated. That was when your father met-"

He cuts her off. "I know."

"Yes." She turns back to him, a smile on her face but not in her eyes. "When I was younger I always thought I'd have a crowd of children, like in a story. And then things happen and things change. But if you love each other, and you're committed, then you can make it work."

 

* * *

 

"What are you up to?"

Balthazar's finally out of the bathroom, having fallen into Peter's arms at the airport demanding a shower. Peter brandishes the phone in his direction.

  
  
"Thinking about dinner. Thai? Greek? Or we could go into town and get - why are you making that face?"

Balthazar frowns and turns away from him. "You always try and make decisions about other things."

"Eh?" Balth is fussing with the zip on his suitcase, still not looking at Peter. He speaks so quietly that Peter almost misses it.

"I talked to Jo."

Well, Peter would assume so, given he's been staying in her house. "Yeah…"

"About us having kids." Peter suddenly feels sick.

"Seriously, can you look at me if we're doing this?" Balthazar straightens up and turns back to face him. There's that little look in his eyes. That look of potential.

"I do want to. But I'm not sure if you want to."

 _That's better_ , he thinks, crossing the room to rest his hands on Balthazar's shoulders. "I've been talking to people too. You might hear some things from Ben, actually, although-"

"Would explain the video of Katie, with her keyboard. She can play _Hot Cross Buns_ now."

One of these days Peter really is going to murder Benedick Hobbes.

"Fuck's sake. Look, I want to. Definitely. But I want to do it properly, like, we really need to both be on the same page. And I think I want us to adopt because I swear to God, the stuff women do. So it would be really cool if we had a girl and we could teach her about feminism and politics, or a boy and we could make sure he-"

Balthazar cuts him off again, looping his own arms around Peter's neck. "Pete. We don't have to fill in the forms right now."

"No, I just mean-"

"Stop." Balth kisses him, only briefly. "I just got home and we're going to have a kid. Isn't that enough for tonight?"  
  
It's something they say to each other over and over again, throughout the years. After tantrums and fights and tears and worry, the worry that sinks deep into Peter's bones, he turns to Balthazar with _I think that's enough for tonight_.

 And Balthazar's response is always the same as his, on that evening.

  
  
_Agreed_.


End file.
